


Hand-to-Hand

by Vector



Category: Baccano!
Genre: Community: kinkfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-03
Updated: 2008-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vector/pseuds/Vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Firo's no doubt much better than Luck at hand-to-hand by now. For prompt: <i>Luck/Firo: experimentation - what friends are for.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand-to-Hand

**Fall 1928**

Firo hits the dummy with a solid strike to the solar plexus. Then he backs away, attacks again—quick jabs, backhand to the jaw. Keith and Berga left fifteen minutes ago, so there's only Luck left to watch, but he doesn't see anything at all wrong with Firo's form.

Then Firo takes two steps back and shifts his balance perfectly into a spinning hook kick, and who is Luck kidding? Firo has an absurd amount of grace—he picks up moves almost instantly. He's no doubt much better than Luck at hand-to-hand by now.

"Good," Luck says anyway, and Firo turns to him with a wide grin.

"Can we break for a while, then?" Firo leans to pick up a towel. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Of course," Luck smiles, and Firo comes over to sit by him on the bench. His shirt is slightly damp, and it clings to him. Firo still looks tiny and unimposing in a suit—he may never grow out of it at this rate—but like this Luck can see that he's built some definition to his muscles, at least.

There's silence for a bit too long as Firo swipes at his neck with the towel and doesn't look at Luck. Luck's curiosity is piqued.

"I," Firo starts eventually. "You've... done things, right, Luck?"

Luck raises his eyebrows slightly. "You're going to have to be more specific than that, Firo."

Firo blushes. "Right. Done things, like—like sex."

_That_ wasn't at all what Luck was expecting, and he tries to hide his surprise. He suspects he might have succeeded with someone who knew him less well than Firo does.

"Done things like sex," Luck repeats. "Yes, I suppose I have. But if you want my advice on some girl you're—" Luck has a sinking feeling that Firo's gotten some girl in trouble, and if there's anything he's not equipped to handle—

"No, nothing like that," Firo breaks in quickly. "Actually, I was hoping you could show me."

Firo isn't usually this cryptic. Usually the opposite, in fact. "Show you what?"

The towel drops to the floor as Firo stands, turning to Luck with a grin. "Things." He stands closer, hooks fingers under Luck's suspenders and tugs.

Luck starts to ask for clarification again, because Firo can't _possibly_ mean what it seems like, and then Firo is kissing him. Just barely a touch of their lips, before Luck grunts in surprise and pushes him away.

Firo looks adorably put out. "Sorry. But we're friends, right? And you, uh—and I want, so I thought—" he trails off.

Luck watches him for a moment. He's interested to know how Firo got the idea that Luck would be open to the idea, but it's hardly the time for an interrogation. Not when it's Firo. And it's not like he's _wrong_—and Firo is quite attractive, and a friend, and he's standing here _asking_—

"Of course we're friends, Firo. You don't have to look like that. Just, maybe somewhere more private." Luck looks around the room at the large windows, opened wide for air flow.

Firo flushes even as his mouth spreads wide in a relieved grin. "Of course. Um," he clearly tries for nonchalance even as his every pore oozes excitement, "where?"

Luck considers. "If you'd rather not wait—storage closet?" he offers, with a tilt of his head.

Firo looks like Luck has just made all his dreams come true. The way Firo wears his emotions for anyone to see makes Luck worry sometimes, but it's also bizarrely endearing.

They're only a few steps in, just out of the way of potential eyes, when Firo grabs him again, both suspenders this time, and pulls him down for a real kiss. He kisses sort of awkwardly. Luck doesn't hold back this time, and Firo moans under the press of his lips, and that—Luck definitely wonders why he hadn't thought of this before.

Firo breaks away. "Luck," he says, voice breathy, and he presses close, hands on his chest as he seals the whole line of his body against Luck's. Luck can feel him, hard already.

"God, Firo," Luck says with a smile. "Come on," he tugs at the edge of Firo's shirt, still damp-feeling, and pulls it over his head.

"Let me," Firo says, and he pulls the tails of Luck's shirt out of his pants, then slides a hand down them and presses. "Like this?"

_That's_ really hot—Firo, little Firo who's been his friend forever, with his shirt off and his hair mussed and his hand down Luck's pants. But that's not how this is supposed to go.

"Over here," Luck says, and he guides Firo back to the stack of mats in the back, gets him back against them, Firo's hand shifting out as they move. He gets Firo's pants undone as he leans down to lick salt off his collarbone. Then he gets fabric away enough to get a hand around Firo's cock, to really give it a firm stroke, and he's not going to tell Firo he's actually only done this a few times unless he asks.

"Luck," Firo says, choked and gasping. "You—god, that feels amazing," he says as Luck licks down his chest to a nipple. Then he rakes gently with his teeth and Firo bucks, gasps, "I can't—" and is coming over his hand. Luck feels unreasonably smug as he pulls away.

For a moment Firo is just sprawled over the edge of the mats, slack and boneless, blinking slowly. Then his eyes land on Luck and some focus comes back.

"Now, your turn," he says, with frightening determination.

Then Luck's leaning against the wall of the closet so his legs don't give out as Firo takes his aching length in hand. He moves his hand awkwardly to start, but after a few strokes he has the motion right—Firo learns quickly, as always.

"Harder," Luck says, and Firo obliges.

Luck likes to think he lasts substantially longer than Firo, but he's not actually sure it's more than a couple of minutes before he's trembling against the wall and making an utter mess of his shirt. Firo's smile is blinding.


End file.
